


safe for now

by oakleaf_bearer



Series: martin does jon's hair [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Hair Braiding, Spoilers for Season 3, pining? in my archive? it's more likely than you think, set in episode 92
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleaf_bearer/pseuds/oakleaf_bearer
Summary: jon's back in the archives after being cleared of the leitner incident, and martin feels many thingsorjon's a sleepy boy and martin braids his hairset just after episode 92
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: martin does jon's hair [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849285
Comments: 10
Kudos: 210





	safe for now

Martin was pacing. He was trying to pretend he was fine, but he was pacing.  
Jon looked a state. He'd barrelled into the archives, Detective Tonner and Basira in tow, and marched to Elias' office, ignoring the blood on his neck and the bandage on his hand.  
The afternoons revelations still rang in Martin's ears.  
Elias had killed Gertrude.  
Elias had killed Jurgen Leitner.  
Sasha had been dead for over a year.  
If Elias died, they would all die.  
"Martin, stop thinking so hard."  
Martin jumped and turned to where Jon was sprawled on his chair. "You can hear my thoughts?"  
Jon sighed and sat up. "No, but I can tell you're spiralling."  
"Is it that obvious?"  
"Unfortunately, yes. Do you want to talk about it?"  
"Do you?"  
Jon looked at him, brow furrowed. "Not particularly. I want to talk, but... not about that."  
Martin sank into a chair. "Me too."  
Jon opened one of his desk draws and pulled out a small packet of hair ties. He took one out and moved his hands to his hair. He had barely touched it when he cried out and doubled over, his burnt hand clutched to his chest.  
Martin was on his feet in a second. "Jon, are you alright?"  
"Fine. I'm fine. I just... forgot."  
"You shouldn't move it. Here, let me help."  
Martin took the hair tie from his hand. He placed a hand on Jon's shoulder and gently pulled him to sit up straight. Jon went willingly.  
He was silent as Martin carded a hand through his hair, pulling gently at the knots.  
"Do you have a brush?"  
Jon reached back into the drawer and produced a small plastic hairbrush. He passed it over his shoulder to Martin.  
Starting at the end of his hair, Martin brushed through the knots, working them loose. Jon didn't move, didn't complain when a particularly stubborn knot caused Martin to pull a little too hard against his hair.  
Gradually, the hair began to shift under his hands, falling looser and freer. Some of the strands rose up to meet the static of the brush, and Martin smoothed them back down with steady fingers.  
When Martin could run the brush through the hair without resistance, he placed it back down on the desk. His thumb brushed the edge of Jon's hand as he did, and his skin buzzed with the feeling of the scratchy bandage Jon had wrapped around the burn.  
He forced himself to pull his attention back to the task at hand, and he gently divided a section of his hair into three smaller parts. Jon's hair was longer than it had been last time, and it was easier to keep the strands in place without too many loose bits running wild. Martin let his fingers fall into the steady rhythm, one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three.  
Before long, he felt Jon's head slip forward a bit, nodding towards his chest. It made the angle difficult to work at, but Martin doubted that Jon had had any decent sleep in weeks. Probably months.  
He let him rest, hoping that the motion of his hands was soothing. He worked slowly, and told himself it was so that he didn't wake Jon.  
Eventually, Martin finished, and he looped the hair tie around the end of the braid, setting it gently against the back of Jon's neck. He knew he should wake him, that the angle of his slouch would cause a painful crick in his neck, but Jon looked so peaceful.  
His brow wasn't furrowed in thought, his eyes weren't hungry and seeking, his voice not filled with static. He was just Jon. Sleeping, curled up in his desk chair, hair carefully braided out of his face, Jon looked almost... normal. Like the weight of being The Archivist didn't matter. Like he wasn't enslaved to the embodiment of the fear of being watched.  
Martin watched him now. He listened to his tiny, quiet snores, so mundane and human that it made his heart ache.  
He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay, and watch over Jon forever.  
He knew he couldn't. He knew that he had to eventually go back to work. The pile of statement follow ups wouldn't get smaller on its own.  
The world outside was dangerous and scary, and it wanted Jon dead. He was scarred and fragile and so small. They had hell ahead of them and no real plan.  
But still. That could wait. Damn the world. Jon was back.  
So Martin sat and watched Jon sleep, and felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to oak's pining hours  
> take a seat, enjoy the show 
> 
> come find me on tumblr @illbefunnylater or @oakleaf--bearer for my writing blog  
> comments and kudos keep me writing, love you all


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